The Edge
by Emmaline Shea
Summary: Bella and Edward have returned from Italy. Try as they might to pick up where they left off, they struggle to renew their relationship.
1. The Black Hole

_Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight, and all of its characters. No copyright infringement is intended._

Edward's arm tightened slightly around my shoulders and pulled me closer. He was laughing along with Alice and Jasper. As we sat around a small round table in the cafeteria, Edward looked at me and jostled my shoulders a bit. I knew he wanted me to laugh at Alice's joke along with the rest of them but it just didn't seem very funny.

"Are you okay?" Edward whispered.

"I need to get to English," I said as I squirmed out of Edward's cold grip.

"I'll walk you to class," Edward said as he stood up to follow me.

"No, it's okay. I'll see you later," I called while I hurried out of reach.

Even without looking back I knew Edward's eyes were following me.

I exhaled while I raced around the corner and stumbled into Mike.

"Hey, Bella!" Ever since my return from Italy, Mike had been all too eager to talk to me just like when I first arrived in Forks during my junior year. In the past, his lame attempts at getting my attention had annoyed me to no end. Lately his antics hadn't seemed so bad. I found him annoying only part of the time.

"Hi, Mike," I responded with a slight smile.

"I'm really looking forward to this new unit in English class," Mike said as we entered the classroom.

"Gothic novels?" I responded.

"Yeah, we're starting out with _The Hunchback of Notre Dame._"

"Oh."

"You don't sound too excited," Mike replied.

"I had to read it back in Phoenix. It's okay."

"We're also reading _Frankenstein,_" Mike continued.

"I can't wait_._"

"But what I'm really looking forward to is . . . _Dracula!_" Mike said with a pathetic Bela Lugosi impersonation.

_Oh, please. _

Mike was back to annoying me full time.

I practically ran to my truck after the last class of the day. I knew there was no way I could get out of the parking lot before Edward saw me, but I hurried anyway.

"What's the rush?" Edward said as he walked toward me.

"I have to get to work," I answered.

"I didn't know you were working today," he said, frowning.

"Well I am," I said, deliberately.

"Bella, what's going on?"

"I am going to work," I said, emphasizing each word.

"Bella," Edward sighed.

"What?" I snapped.

"You seem upset."

"Do I?"

"Yes, all the time. I think we need to talk about it."

"Talk about what?" I mumbled.

He paused. "Italy."

"Oh, not again."

"Bella, Italy was terrifying. We've never really discussed it."

"I have to go," I said as I climbed into my truck.

"I'll see you . . ." Edward started to say. I turned the key letting the roar of the engine drown him out.

As I pulled out of the parking lot I willed my eyes to look straight ahead and not watch the receding figure in my rearview mirror.

My shift at work ended a little later than usual and I drove home thinking that Charlie would be upset. He had every right to be angry with me after what he referred to as "that crazy stunt." He told me I was grounded until doomsday and shouted, "that Cullen boy will never walk through this door again." In typical Charlie fashion he never said one word about how he felt or what it was like for him while I was gone. But I knew I had truly frightened him and he needed to do something to feel like things were under control again. I was relieved to be home and looked forward to a getting back to a normal life. At first the familiar routine of school and work seemed so comforting. I didn't even mind being grounded. My days were busy and my nights were quiet. Since Charlie had laid down the law about Edward never entering our house again, I thought it best to honor his wishes in every way. Edward reluctantly agreed.

As I approached my house, I looked for Charlie's police cruiser. My grip tightened on the steering wheel when I noticed a silver Volvo instead. I sighed as I parked in the driveway.

"How was work?" Edward asked as opened the door to my truck.

"You shouldn't be here," I answered without looking at him.

Edward paused. "Can we talk?"

"About Italy?" I said as I got out of my truck, my head down.

"No, about Charlie."

I looked up. "What about Charlie?"

"Is he still angry?"

"I don't know. We really don't talk about it."

"Well, what do think?" Edward pressed.

"I think he doesn't want to talk about it," I answered flatly as I turned my back to him to close the door.

"Bella, you know what I mean," he countered.

I quickly turned to face him, taking a step forward. "No Edward, I really don't know what you mean. Go ahead and tell me what you mean. Come on, tell me right here and now just exactly what you mean," I exploded.

Edward stared at me with his lips pressed together.

"Well, I'm waiting," I said, impatiently.

"I want to see you tonight."

"You're banished, remember?"

"I'm coming over. I'll see you later," Edward said, not giving me a chance to answer as he walked towards his car.

Brittle as ice, I glared as he drove away.

I fixed a meal of meatloaf and mashed potatoes for dinner. Since coming home, I had tried to make all of Charlie's favorite comfort foods. As usual, Charlie and I talked little during dinner and were not bothered by each other's silence.

"I'll clean up," Charlie offered.

"No, Dad. I can do it."

"You've been doing all the cooking and cleaning around here lately. I'm giving you the rest of the night off."

"I don't even have that much homework tonight. I can do it."

Charlie looked at me with questioning eyes.

"No really, Dad. You go relax and catch a game on TV. I've got this covered."

"Okay. But tomorrow night I'm on kitchen duty."

"It's a deal."

I actually had more homework than I said, but wanted to stay downstairs as long as possible. After drying the last of the dishes, I thought about doing my homework at the kitchen table, but knew that I would never be able to get anything done with the sound of a game invading my ears. I paused at the bottom of the stairs before heading up with my backpack.

As I entered my room I saw Edward sitting in his familiar place in the rocking chair.

"What are you doing? Charlie's still up," I hissed, irritated that he would be brazen enough to arrive so early.

"I told you I was coming over," Edward said evenly.

"What if he hears you?"

"I'll talk quietly," Edward answered. "Will you?"

"Is this why you came over so early? So I'll have to keep my voice down so Charlie won't hear?"

"Bella, this afternoon you were getting a little . . ."

"A little what?"

Edward paused. "Out of control."

"You think that if I raise my voice a bit I am suddenly 'out of control'?"

Edward looked at me. "Bella, I need to say something to you. I hope you can hear me."

"You're sitting right there. Of course, I'll hear you."

"I mean I hope you can understand me."

"Well, what?"

Edward closed his eyes for a moment then continued. "Bella, ever since we got back from Italy you have not been yourself."

_Oh, please, not Italy again, _I thought._ It's behind us, let it go._

"I don't know if you can see it in yourself, but you are increasingly irritable and angry. It seems like everything I do and say is upsetting to you."

_You really don't know why? _ I clenched my teeth as a surge of anger rushed through me.

"Carlisle thinks you may be suffering from post-traumatic stress syndrome."

"You have been talking to Carlisle about me?" I said, infuriated to think my feelings had been a topic of conversation.

"I'm very worried about you. You really need to talk about this."

_Let. It. Go. _My knees began to shake.

"What happened in Italy was terrifying. It's only natural that it would have an affect you. I think you need to talk about it," he continued.

_How can you be so oblivious to what's really going on? _My head started to pound.

"Bella, can you understand me? Do you know I mean?"

My voice, steely and hard, answered, "You think I need to talk to a therapist?"

"You need to talk to someone."

"You really think Italy is the problem?"

"Yes."

I stared at him, not believing that he could be, so blind, so unfeeling.

"You are totally clueless," I said, my head pounding.

"What do you mean?"

"You have no idea what I've been through."

"I was there, too," Edward answered softly.

"But you weren't here."

"What?"

"Italy is not the problem," I hissed.

"Bella, I know this is hard to face . . ."

"Hard to face?" I shouted. "You don't know anything about hard to face."

"Bella, shhh."

"Hard to face is being thrown down a black hole with no way out."

"Bella, Charlie will hear," Edward pleaded.

"A big black hole full of nothing."

"You're not making any sense."

"You still don't get it."

Like a flame-thrower, my anger shot across the room.

"You left me!" I shouted.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I've given you a thousand apologies. I'll give you a thousand more if that's what you need. Please, just tell me what you need."

"Nothing. We both know you're pretty good at giving that."

"Bella, please don't do this."

"Don't do what? Say it out loud? You walked out on me!"

I could hear Charlie running up the stairs.

"Leave!" I snarled.

"Bella," whispered Edward.

"Bella, are you okay?" called Charlie from the other side of the door.

"Get out!" I yelled, glaring at Edward. "GET OUT!"

Edward's face was knotted with fear and confusion as he quickly climbed out the window.

"Bella, what's going on?" shouted Charlie as he charged into my room.

I caught my reflection in the mirror above my dresser. The blazing anger roiling inside made me almost unrecognizable. But my expression was one I had seen before. It was the same look of furious rage Edward had given me on the first day we met.


	2. Chapter 2 The Alarm

"Was that Edward?" Charlie yelled.

"Yes," I said, turning away. I didn't want him to see me so full of rage.

"How did he get in here?"

"Through the window," I answered, struggling to control my voice.

"How the . . ." Charlie muttered as he shut the window, locked it and pulled the curtains closed.

Charlie stood motionless for a few moments. "What did he want?" he finally asked.

"I don't know," I lied, not wanting recount the argument. "I threw him out," I continued, still fighting for control.

"Yeah, I heard that part," Charlie said. "Good for you. You did the right thing."

"I guess so."

"Do you want to come downstairs for a while?" Charlie asked, wanting to help but clearly not knowing what to do.

"No, I've got homework," I answered, knowing full well that I wouldn't be able to get a lick of work done now. As much as I appreciated Charlie's concern, what I really needed was time and space to get myself together.

"I'm leaving the door open. I want to be able to hear if he comes back," Charlie said as he turned to leave.

"Thanks, Dad, but I don't think that will happen."

I sat down on my bed and stared at the floor. After a few minutes, my breathing slowed down and my legs stopped shaking. The anger that had been roaring through me finally shrunk to a hard lump inside my chest. Even though I felt a little better I had too much restless energy to sit still any longer. I got up, turned on my computer and tapped my fingers on the desk while I waited for the Internet to boot up.

I typed "post-traumatic stress syndrome" into the search engine. I clicked on the first entry and scrolled down the list of symptoms.

Flashbacks. Phobias. Sleeping disorders.

_I'm not experiencing any flashback or phobias. And I'm sleeping just fine. _

What was Edward talking about?

Just as I was about to exit the site, three words at the bottom of the list jumped out at me.

Avoidance. Irritability. Anger.

The hard lump inside my chest jolted. Those sounded familiar.

I felt I had put the events of Italy behind me. Were they more of an issue that I thought? Was I unknowingly still carrying them around?

But something didn't ring quite true. I wasn't avoiding my friends at school. I hadn't been irritable with Mike even with his annoying antics. Despite being grounded, I hadn't been angry with Charlie.

Only one person was the target of all these symptoms.

Edward.

I thought once we returned from Italy we would simply pick up where we left off. But it seemed that the old routines just didn't work anymore. I found Edward's insistance of discussing our time in Italy maddening. Couldn't he see that leaving me last year was the real issue? He acted as if his apologies and promises never to leave me again closed the book on that chapter. Before he left, that would have been enough for me to forgive him for anything. But all those months of crawling my way out that deep dark pit had left their mark. I had changed. The Bella that had first moved to Forks no longer existed and Edward's search for my former self was futile.

I felt the hard lump in my chest again. It was like a wall inside me, encircling my heart. The wall was strong with bricks hard as stone. It had been built to last. Even Edward, with all his dazzling ways, couldn't tear down the wall I had spent months constructing so carefully.

I woke up the next morning in the grip of a ferocious headache. The light coming in from the window didn't help either. Hadn't Charlie closed the curtains last night? I didn't remember opening them before I went to bed.

The pain in my head squeezed even tighter as I realized the curtains were open because Edward had come back during the night while I was sleeping. How dare he sneak in again! He must have thought since I was asleep, what difference would it make? If I didn't know, what would it matter? As I got ready for school I mentally rehearsed a dozen acid remarks to hurl at him.

By the time I pulled into the school parking lot, my head felt like it was being crushed between two boulders. I parked in the space farthest away from any other cars and rested my head on the steering wheel. I just needed a few moments with my eyes closed to calm the pounding inside my head.

I heard a light tapping on the window. _Not now, Edward, _I thought_._ My head hurt too much to remember any of my cutting comments.

"Go away," I muttered, without opening my eyes.

Tap, tap, tap.

"Please," I whispered.

"Bella?"

I looked up to see Angela tapping on the window. "Are you okay?" she asked.

I rolled down my window. "Sorry, Angela, I didn't know it was you."

"Are you okay?" she repeated.

"Just a monster headache."

"I've got some aspirin," she offered.

"I could use a couple if you don't mind."

Angela dug the aspirin out of her purse as I got out of my truck and locked the door.

"Seems like I get a headache every few weeks. Aspirin doesn't get rid of them, but it usually takes the edge off so I can get through the day."

"Getting through the day is all I'm looking for," I said as we walked toward the building.

I didn't see Edward all morning. I had to begrudge him a couple of points for steering clear of me while I was in such a hellish mood. The aspirin Angela gave me dulled my headache enough that my morning classes were not as grim as they could have been. By lunchtime, only a dull throbbing remained.

As I entered the cafeteria, I scanned the room for Edward. Neither he nor any of the other Cullens were there. Perhaps they were off hunting. My searing lecture would have to wait.

Wading through my afternoon classes, I kept imagining Edward denying that he had spied on me while I was sleeping. Over and over I rehearsed the speech that would prove he had returned, uninvited, to my room.

While walking through the parking lot after school, I ran into Angela.

"Hi, Bella. Looks like you made it through the day."

"The aspirin really helped. Thanks."

"Maybe we could get together sometime this week."

"I'm still grounded."

"Oh, sorry. For how long?" Angela asked.

"Only until doomsday."

"When I get grounded, it's always for forever and a day."

"Which one is longer?"

"I don't know," Angela laughed. "When you finally get released, let's compare notes."

***********************************************************************

As I drove home, I made myself a mental note to get together with Angela as soon as Charlie released me from being grounded. If Charlie stuck to his timeline Angela and I would be two little old ladies before that happened. I could just picture it, Angela and I sitting in creaky rocking chairs, trading war stories about being grounded. I laughed out loud at the silly image.

I stopped laughing when I saw a familiar flash of silver in my rearview mirror as I pulled into my driveway. Apparently Edward was back.

A cool breeze caught my hair as I stepped out of my truck. My mind raced to recall all the pointed lines that would prove he had spied on me last night.

Before I could shut the door Edward was beside me saying, "Bella, I want you to know I came back last night while you were sleeping."

My rehearsed speech clattered to the ground, unspoken.

"I was very concerned about you," he added.

Not able to think of anything to say, I just stared at him.

"I was there for only a moment to see if you were alright."

I finally found my voice. "I knew you had been there."

It was Edward's turn to look surprised.

"You left the curtains open," I said.

"You still don't miss a thing," he replied, reaching for my hand.

I quickly pulled away and shivered as the wind spun around me.

Edward frowned. "I still think we need to talk about Italy."

"When are you going to understand that it's not about Italy!" I shouted, stepping back from him. "It's about you. You leaving me."

"I'm back now."

"Don't you get it? That doesn't erase what you did!"

"I will never leave you again. I promise."

"I never thought you would leave me in the first place."

"Bella, can't you understand that I felt I had to leave? To protect you."

The bite was back in my voice. "You think leaving me was so heroic."

Edward looked like I had struck him.

"When Jasper wanted to attack me he was acting on instinct. It was an impulse, it wasn't on purpose."

Edward rolled his eyes. "I know that. But instinct or not he wanted to kill you."

"You still don't get it. If you or your family ever attacked me I would know you didn't mean to, that it would be an accident, a mistake. I have always known that something crazy, something bad like that could happen. But when you left me it was planned, it was deliberate." I looked down at the ground. "You have no idea what that did to me."

We both stood silently for a moment. The swirling wind held the threat of rain.

"You could leave me again," I continued.

"I won't."

"But you could."

The wind blew in droplets of rain, stinging my face. Edward stepped in front of me, the rain pelting his back.

"It's getting cold. Maybe you should go inside," Edward said softly.

"Maybe I should," I agreed.

Edward looked at me for another moment and then started walking towards his car.

"Don't come over tonight," I called after him.

He stopped a moment and looked at me, his face full of hurt and confusion. "I'll see you later," he said as he opened the door and slid inside.

_Not tonight_, I thought as I watched him drive away.

************************************************************************

The next morning the first thing I did was check the curtains. They were still closed as I knew they would be. I went over to the window and examined the sill. Knowing that Edward wouldn't make the same mistake twice, I had placed a small, nearly invisible thread on the sill before going to bed. There was no way he could come in through the window without moving it.

It was gone. I found it on the floor as if hiding.

_Damn him, _I thought. _Even after I told him not to!_

In my renewed fury, I pictured myself putting steel bars or barbed wire on the window. Knowing they would be useless, I imagined some sort of elaborate security system complete with lasers, motion detectors and sirens. Even if I had the money and know-how to install such a system, it would probably just end up being a brief, entertaining challenge to Edward.

If only there were some type of alarm to wake me up when he came into my room. Something simple and easy that would alert me to the slightest sound. It wouldn't be able to keep him out, but at least I would be able to confront him if he tried to come in during the night.

All of a sudden it came to me. It was perfect. I smiled knowing I had discovered the best, low-cost vampire alarm in the world.

All I needed was Charlie's okay.


	3. Port Angeles

"So Dad, what do you think?"

"I don't know, I never considered getting one before," Charlie answered as he put another slice of bread in the toaster. "What made you suddenly want to get one?"

"I've been thinking of it for a while," I fudged. "I was afraid to mention anything, being grounded and all."

Charlie gazed out the window and didn't say anything.

"I know I'd feel a lot safer," I said, not daring to mention the real reason.

"You are home alone a lot." Charlie finally looked at me. "You'd have to do it all. This is way out of my league."

"Dad, I'll take care of everything. I promise."

"Well, okay, if you think it would make you feel better."

The toast popped up. I buttered it and gave it to Charlie.

"We could go to Port Angeles today and get one," I suggested.

"Today?"

"It's Saturday. I don't have school and you're not working," I offered.

Charlie chewed his toast. "I wanted to watch the game this afternoon," he said.

"What time does it start?"

"Four o'clock."

"If we left now, we would be back in plenty of time."

"Gary's on duty today. He's been deputy for only a year. Something may come up."

"Dad, you are always telling me that Gary is the best deputy you've ever had."

"You're still grounded," Charlie argued.

"You'd be with me," I countered. "What trouble could I possibly get into?"

Charlie looked at me and sighed. "Okay, but we're taking your truck. I just cleaned the inside of the cruiser."

I tore upstairs to get my keys and a jacket. I was at the front door waiting for Charlie in less than a minute.

"Well, aren't we in a hurry?" Charlie teased as he met me at the door.

"I guess so," I laughed.

Just as I opened the door, the phone rang. I looked at Charlie, shaking my head.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to answer it," he said while we walked outside.

The phone kept ringing as Charlie locked the front door. We could still hear it as we got into my truck. Even inside the truck we were able to hear the faint, persistent rings.

"I'm sorry, Bells. I bet something's happened and Gary is trying to get ahold of me."

Charlie got out of the truck.

"Dad," I pleaded, rolling down the window.

He was halfway to the door when he suddenly turned around and said, "Look, I'm giving you a one day pass. You can go to Port Angeles by yourself. But you come straight home. You got that?"

"Straight home, Dad. I promise."

"You're still grounded," he said, trying to look serious.

"I know. Until doomsday."

"If you don't come straight home it will be until doomsday and back!" he called as he went into the house.

_Well, here goes, _I thought as I pulled into the parking lot of the old, rundown building. I read the sign above the front door.

Port Angeles Humane Society

When I opened the door, a gray-haired woman sitting at the front desk looked up and said with a big smile, "Hi, I'm Sheila. Can I help you?"

"I'd like to adopt a dog," I said, looking around.

"Well, you came to the right place," Sheila answered. "We're pretty full right now, over forty dogs, so you'll have your pick. Are you looking for anything in particular?"

"All I need is a dog that barks."

Sheila laughed and opened a door with the word "Kennels" printed in big, red letters. My ears were immediately assaulted with more barking, yapping and howling than I had ever heard before.

"They all bark," she yelled.

"I guess I'm looking for a guard dog," I hollered. "Do you have any of those?"

"Let's take a look around," Sheila called as she headed down the first of several rows of wire cages.

"How about that one?" I said as I pointed to a large, black dog standing in the middle of his cage. His head was down and he was leaning forward staring straight at me, not moving.

"That's Chester. You don't want him."

"Why not?"

"He's what is known as a dangerous dog."

"Sounds like what I'm looking for."

"Nobody wants a dog that dangerous," Sheila answered. Chester continued to glare at us with cold, black eyes. We kept walking. "Where do you live?" Sheila asked.

"I'm from Forks."

"And you need a dangerous dog?" she asked, smiling.

"I'm home alone a lot while my dad works," I answered, not wanting to go into the real reason.

"Oh, I see. Sounds like you want a dog that's going to make a ruckus if someone tries to get in."

"Exactly."

"Let me show you Reilly."

We walked to the end of a long aisle and stood in front of a cage containing a small dog with puffy white fur.

"This is Reilly," Sheila said.

Reilly turned into a white blur, yapping and racing around in circles.

"Hi, Reilly," I called. Reilly never stopped to look at us. He just kept barking and running.

"Reilly!" Sheila shouted. "Hey, Reilly!" The ball of fur yelped louder and tore around even faster. "He usually calms down after a minute or so," Sheila offered. "If we just stand here, he'll settle down."

While Sheila and I stood waiting for Reilly to calm down I noticed a big yellow dog in the next kennel looking at me with a goofy grin and his tongue hanging out.

"That dog over there, he looks like he's smiling," I said to Sheila.

"That's Scout. He's a sweetie."

"Do dogs really smile?" I asked.

"They sure do," Sheila answered. "Do you want to take a look?"

Reilly's frenzy continued.

"Okay," I said walking up to the cage. Sheila unlocked it and went inside.

"Come on in," Sheila said. "He's really friendly."

As soon as I walked in Scout came up to me and licked my hand. I scratched the silky fur behind his ears. "What kind of dog is this?" I asked Sheila.

"He's a golden retriever - a purebred, too," Sheila answered. "Someone paid a lot of money for that dog."

"How did he end up here?"

"He was a stray we found a few miles outside of town. He either got lost or somebody dumped him by the side of the road."

Something inside of me stirred as I looked into Scout's warm, brown eyes. He looked back, still smiling.

"He's really nice, but he doesn't seem like much of a guard dog," I told Sheila.

Reilly kept yapping.

From the other end of the room I heard the sound of someone opening the door to the kennels.

Immediately Scout looked toward the door, arched his tail and stiffened his legs.

"WOOF," he boomed.

Sheila smiled.

"I'll take him," I said.


	4. Chapter 4 At Home

"Good lord," Charlie exclaimed. "What did you do? Adopt a horse?"

We were in the kitchen with Scout standing between us wagging his tail.

"Come on, Dad. He's not _that_ big," I said.

"How much does he weigh?"

"He's a golden retriever, one of the large breeds. Some goldens get up to eighty pounds," I said, reciting the information from a pamphlet Sheila had given me.

"How much does _he_ weigh?" Charlie persisted.

"Only seventy pounds," I answered, remembering Sheila's estimate when I asked the same question. Sheila had left out the word "only."

"_Only_ seventy pounds?"

"Dad!"

"Oh, alright. But keep that big lug off the couch."

"Got it," I said. "How about I start dinner?" I continued, trying to change the subject.

"No, you were out most of the day. I'll cook tonight."

"I can do it," I argued.

"You sure?"

"I'm sure," I insisted. "I'll make dinner, you sit."

Scout immediately tucked in his back legs and sat down.

Charlie and I looked at each other.

I looked at Scout.

"Down."

Scout pushed his front paws out and lay down, his tail swishing the floor.

Deciding to test one more command, I took a few steps back. "Come," I said.

Scout popped up, walked over and looked at me expectantly.

"Well, I'll be damned," said Charlie.

************************************************************************

After dinner, Charlie headed into the living room to watch the game. I decided I better get some reading done for English. I had to finish _Frankenstein_ before Monday.

"Come on, Scout," I called as I walked up the stairs. Scout bounded after me, grinning the whole way.

I found a couple of old blankets in the hall closet and put them in the corner as a bed for him.

"Here, Scout," I said as I patted the blankets. Scout came over, took a quick sniff and plopped down.

"You are one smart dog," I said as I stroked under his chin. Scout sighed and closed his eyes.

"How about you keep me company while I study?" Scout sighed again.

I opened my backpack and pulled out Mary Shelley's _Frankenstein._ I hadn't read this back in Phoenix so it was new to me. I had expected Dr. Frankenstein's creation to be a stiff-legged, grunting monster with bolts protruding from his neck like Boris Karloff in the movie. Instead, I was surprised to read that Shelley's monster was quick, agile and most unexpected of all, very articulate. How had Hollywood gotten it so wrong?

Every so often I glanced over at Scout. Each time I looked at him he was curled into a ball, eyes closed, fast asleep. I continued to read. After an hour or so, he got up, stretched and padded out of the room. I heard him go down into the kitchen and crunch some more of the dry dog food I had put out for him earlier. _He certainly has made himself at home, _I thought.

It took me about another hour to finish the book. I got up from my desk, stretched, and realized that Scout hadn't come back. Wondering what he was up to, I went downstairs to check.

I found Charlie, sitting on the couch with his feet on the coffee table. Scout was lying on the couch beside him, his head resting on Charlie's lap.

"Dad!"

"What?"

"What happened to 'keep that big lug off the couch'?" I said, imitating him.

"He likes it when I scratch him behind the ears. How am I supposed to do that if he's on the floor?" Charlie shrugged. Scout's tail thumped madly on the couch.

Shaking my head, I went back upstairs.

I woke up the next morning to see Scout curled up on his bed of blankets in the corner. I hadn't heard him come in my room after I'd gone to bed. I hadn't heard any barking either.

The instant bonding between Charlie and Scout was surprising to say the least. Charlie got up early Sunday morning and took Scout for a walk before breakfast. Later in the afternoon, he took Scout to an open field just west of town armed with a couple of old tennis balls. From the way Scout was panting when they got back home I could tell that Charlie had given Scout a retriever's dream date by throwing the ball over and over again.

While Scout lapped up his second bowl of water I said to Charlie, "You're stealing my dog."

Charlie smiled. "Our dog," he said.

That night passed as peacefully as the one before with Scout sleeping in my room without issuing a single bark. Perhaps Edward finally got the message and my clever early warning system wasn't necessary after all.

Monday morning I drove into the school parking lot feeling the best I had in weeks. At the other end of the lot I noticed Edward getting out of his car and heading towards the building. Since I was in such a good mood I decided to say hello.

"Edward, wait up," I called, running to catch up with him.

He stopped and turned around. "Good morning," he said looking surprised. He suddenly took a quick sniff and frowned. "What did you do this weekend?" he asked. Before I could answer he added, "Did you see Jacob?"

Edward must have picked up a faint canine scent from the goodbye hug I had given Scout before I left for school. Assuming it came from Jacob dissolved my good mood in an instant.

"What if I did?" I countered defensively.

"I would rather you didn't see Jacob. I don't think he's good for you."

"And I suppose you are?" I said, glaring at him.

Edward closed his eyes. When he finally opened them he whispered, "Bella, are you ever going to stop being angry with me?"

"I don't know," I said, turning my back to him.

"What can I do? What do you need?"

"I don't know," I repeated, staring at the ground. After a few minutes the anger swirling inside me began to wind down. All I could hear was the sound of the wind scattering a few dusty leaves around the parking lot. I finally looked up to see that Edward had gone and I was standing alone. I shifted my backpack to my other shoulder and trudged toward the building.


	5. Chapter 5 Angela

I didn't see Edward the rest of day. My good mood from the morning never returned. My day consisted of wandering from class to class and sitting lost in my own world of bitterness.

When I got home after school I was greated by a joyous Scout. I grabbed one of the tennis balls and went out into back yard. Scout didn't seem to care that I couldn't throw the ball very far. Again and again he brought it back to me, dropped it at my feet and looked up with his big, happy smile. After several more throws he was panting heavily. I brought his water bowl from the kitchen and set it outside so he could drink. I sat down on the grass beside him and stroked his long, soft fur while he noisily lapped up the water.

I lay down on the grass and looked up at the sky. When Scout finished drinking he lay down beside me, still panting.

"You're an awfully good dog," I said to him. He stretched out his neck and licked my face.

As I stared at the clouds, I pictured the many walks we would take and the countless times we would play catch. I saw us going on hikes and to the beach. There was always the possibilty that he could get lost. I could even imagine a heartwrenching scene of having him put to sleep. But of one thing I was absolutely sure.

He would never, ever leave me.

During the next couple of days I caught only glimpses of Edward at school. He maintained his distance and for that I was grateful. I had grown tired of the anger that boiled over every time I spoke to him. Feeling so out of control was foreign to me. I realized that each time it had happened it was as if someone else was inside of me, controlling my voice, my emotions. I knew I had changed since last year. I just wasn't sure I liked the new me.

On Wednesday evening Angela called me at home.

"Are you still grounded?" she asked.

"As far as I know," I answered.

"Sorry to hear that. I'm going to Port Angeles on Saturday to get my hair cut. I was wondering if you would be able to go with me."

"You wanted me to come with you to get your hair cut?"

"I'm thinking of getting it cut really short. I was hoping you could come along."

"For moral support?" I asked.

"Something like that," she answered.

"Wish I could help you out. Sorry," I added.

After I said goodbye and hung up the phone Charlie asked me who called.

"Angela wanted me to go to Port Angeles with her this Saturday. I told her I was still grounded."

Charlie didn't say anything for a few moments. Would he be willing to give me another day pass? I was just about to risk asking him when he said, "You did pretty good last weekend. You can go if you promise to stay out of trouble."

"Angela just wants me to go with her to get her hair cut."

"She wants you to go with her to get her hair cut?" Charlie repeated after me, looking puzzled.

"For moral support. It's a girl thing."

"Just there and back?"

"No stops along the way. I promise."

"Call her back and tell her you can go."

"Thanks, Dad."

Angela was delighted when I phoned her and told her I could go just as long as we went to the beauty shop and straight back home.

"No problem," said Angela. "I wasn't planning on going anywhere else."

The rest of the week seemed a bit easier with something to look forward to on Saturday. I saw Edward a few times but usually across the cafeteria or down the hall. It seemed strange to be under the same roof and yet not speak to each other. But I couldn't think of anything to say that hadn't been said before. He probably felt the same way.

I offered to drive to Port Angeles, but Angela insisted we take her car. From the looks of my old, beat up truck she probably assumed it couldn't make it there and back.

On Saturday, she picked me up at nine and we headed out of town.

"What made you decide to get your hair cut?" I asked.

"I don't know. It's just that I've been wearing it this way since about third grade. I guess I don't want to look like a little kid anymore."

"I don't think you look like a kid."

"Maybe I just don't want to feel like a kid," she added. "I'm going to be graduating soon and going off to college. It'll be a whole new chapter in my life. I guess I'm just getting ready. Besides I found a picture of a cute haircut that I think would work. It's in my purse if you want to look for it."

I opened her purse and found the picture. The model's head was turned enough so I could see the back was cut quite short. The part was on the side and long sleek strands hugged the sides of the model's face. Angela was right, it would be perfect for her.

"This will look great on you," I said.

"You think so?"

"Definitely."

We arrived in Port Angeles a little after ten and drove straight to the beauty shop. Angela showed the photo to Bonnie, her hairdresser, who agreed the cut would work well with her features. Realizing that I wasn't needed for moral support after all, I grabbed a magazine and headed to the reception area. After a half hour of reading about the loves, lives, and fashion mistakes of various celebrities, Angela came over beaming.

"What do you think?" she asked.

"You look amazing!"

Bonnie joined us. "So what does your friend think?" she asked Angela.

"I love it," I jumped in. "You did a great job."

"And how would you like your hair cut today?" Bonnie asked me.

"Oh, I'm not getting my haircut," I said quickly.

"Really?" Bonnie answered. "Why not?"

I almost said because my boyfriend wouldn't like it.

"What about it, Bella?" Angela asked.

"I don't think that cut would look very good on me," I answered softly.

"There are lots of haircuts to choose from," said Bonnie. "Here are a couple of magazines that show the latest ones. It won't hurt to take a look."

"I supposed not," I said, taking the magazines reluctantly.

"I'll look with you," Angela said.

Angela sat down next to me and we started thumbing through the magazines together. We both agreed that some of them were way too short, others wouldn't look right on me and several were just plain bizarre. We were near the end of the second magazine and hadn't found one that was right for me. Since I really didn't want to get my haircut anyway, I felt I was off the hook.

But on the last page, there staring back at me was a girl with features similar to mine. Her brunette hair was lightly layered in a chin length bob.

"You'd look great with that cut," Angela said.

"I think maybe so," I agreed. But I suddenly felt scared at the prospect of Bonnie cutting several inches off my hair. I, like Angela, had worn my hair long since grade school. Cutting off anything more than a half an inch seemed so drastic. I wouldn't even look like me anymore. Would I even feel like me? I just couldn't do it.

Besides, Edward wouldn't like it. But did that really matter? Was that enough of a reason not to cut my hair?

I stared at the photo again and tried to picture my exact features with the bobbed cut. I would look so different. But wasn't I different anyway? Hadn't I changed already? Why not change my hair as well? If Edward didn't like it he would simply have to get used to it.

"Let's ask Bonnie what she thinks," I said to Angela.

"I think that would work well with your features," Bonnie said, holding the magazine. "The only thing I would change is to add some bangs."

"Bangs?" I asked. I hadn't had bangs since I was three.

"Bangs would bring out your eyes. You have beautiful eyes you know," said Bonnie.

I looked at Angela. She was nodding and smiling.

"I think you should do it," she offered.

"I was supposed to be holding your hand today," I said to Angela. "It seems like you're holding mine."

I looked at Bonnie.

"Let's do it," I said.


	6. Chapter 6 Sophisticated

I kept looking at myself in the rearview mirror of Angela's car.

"Admit it," Angela laughed, "you look amazing."

"It's just that this is the last thing I expected to do today," I said.

"Do you like it?" Angela asked.

"I'm still getting used to it, but yeah, I like it," I answered, smiling.

"I think it makes you look older, more sophisticated, less . . ."

"Ordinary?" I interjected.

"I was going to say less like you're in high school."

"But I am in high school," I laughed.

"Not much longer," said Angela. "Anyway, everyone's going to love it."

"Everyone but Edward," I said.

We drove in silence for a few minutes.

"Bella, can I ask you something?" Angela said.

"Sure," I said, knowing what her question would be.

"Did you and Edward break up? I mean, I never see the two of you together anymore."

I could feel tears starting to form.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," Angela added.

"No, it's okay," I said, my voice thick and coarse. "I really don't know what's happening."

"I thought you'd be glad he was back. You were so miserable when he was gone."

"I was glad at first. I mean I still am, I guess. I don't know. It's just that every time I am with him, all I can I think about is him leaving me and all this stuff inside me gets stirred up again."

"He really hurt you didn't he?"

I could only nod, the tears were spilling over.

"Do you still love him?"

The brick wall around my heart shuddered. Was it possible that the changes in me had changed my feelings about Edward? He had been the center of my life, my universe. When he left, it was like I was in the bottom of a deep black hole and it had taken me months to crawl out. I had pulled myself out one agonizing day at a time. I knew I never wanted to go there again. Now Edward was back, I felt like I was standing at the edge of that hole and one wrong move would send me tumbling back down.

Yet only a few weeks ago I had raced to Italy to save him. I could have been killed so easily, but was willing to risk it to be with him. As I thought about it I knew that kind of love doesn't just disappear. My love for Edward was still there but it was buried deep inside the sturdy fortress I had built around my heart. How could I tear down that wall? Where would I begin?

"Yes, I still love him," I said softly. "But I just don't know what to do."

Angela drove up to my house around noon.

"Sorry for all the drama," I said, feeling a little embarrassed about getting so emotional.

"Hey, it's okay," Angela said softly. "Besides, the real drama starts Monday when everybody at school sees our hair," she added with a laugh.

"Oh, no," I moaned, dreading the attention my new look would bring.

"Let's go do something crazy again some time," Angela said. "Maybe a couple of tattoos," she laughed.

Laughing along with her I said, "I think the hair is enough for a while."

************************************************************************

As soon as I went inside, Scout came running up to me. _Well, at least he likes my new haircut, _I thought, smiling to myself.

"Did you have a good time?" Charlie asked without looking away from the TV.

"Yeah, it was good," I answered, thinking mostly about the conversation on the way home.

"You're back sooner than I thought you'd be. You didn't have to hurry."

"It doesn't take that long to get a couple of haircuts," I said.

Charlie turned and looked at me, his eyes widening. "I didn't know you were going to get a haircut."

"I didn't either. It was sort of spur of the moment."

"Turn around," he said.

I did a quick pirouette.

"Looks good. I like it," Charlie said turning back to his game.

"By the way," he called as I headed upstairs, "you're ungrounded."

************************************************************************

For the rest of the weekend I dreaded Monday. I liked my new look and was pleased that Angela and Charlie did, too. But I knew I would be the focus of unwanted attention just as I had been when I first arrived in Forks.

The sun was shining as I drove to school. Knowing that the Cullens wouldn't be there I was relieved to think that I wouldn't have to face Edward right away. Maybe it would be sunny all week and I would be off the hook for several days. Being in everyone else's crosshairs would be enough for now.

Mike was the first person I ran into in the parking lot.

"Whoa, Bella! Check out the new do!" he called.

"Hey, Mike, do me a favor? I want this to be kind of low key. No big deal, okay?"

"Sure," he answered, "no problem."

I got plenty of stares during my morning classes but no one was making too much of a fuss. Perhaps everyone had seen Angela's really short cut and mine seemed pretty tame in comparison.

As I walked into the cafeteria for lunch I could hear the low rumbling of thunder outside. I glanced out the windows and saw dark clouds swirling in the sky. So much for a sunny week, I thought.

"Hey, Bella, I love your hair," called Jessica. She was sitting with Mike, Angela, Ben and Lauren.

"So do I," added Ben. "You look great."

"Thanks," I muttered.

"So, Bella," said Lauren, "did Edward totally freak out?" Lauren, as usual, managed to inject her venom into the conversation.

"He doesn't know about it," I answered quietly.

"He doesn't _know_?" asked Lauren. "You didn't tell him?"

"No," I said, feeling my face turn red.

"So is this some sort of statement?" Lauren continued.

"What do you mean?" I said, wishing the whole conversation would simply end.

"It's just that you totally changed your hair without telling your boyfriend first. I've heard that's called a break-up haircut."

"A what?" asked Ben.

"A break-up haircut," answered Lauren. "You know, it's when a girl tells her boyfriend it's over without saying a word."

"That's new to me," said Ben.

"So Bella, what about it?" Lauren continued. "Is this your way of telling Edward to get lost?"

I had never even heard of a break-up haircut before. What a ridiculous idea, to tell your boyfriend that it's over just by getting a haircut! I stood there open-mouthed, unable to think of anything to say.

"I'll take that as a yes," Lauren said and walked off.

"Lauren . . . " I called. But before I could say anything else, Mike said, "Did you hear that we're watching a movie in English today."

"Which one?" asked Ben.

"_Nosferatu,_" answered Mike. "It's based on _Dracula_. It's one of the first vampire movies ever made."

"Never heard of it," said Ben.

"I saw part of it once," said Angela. "It's pretty creepy."

"It's an old silent movie. How creepy can it be?" asked Mike.

"You'll find out," said Angela.

I finished lunch as quickly as I could. Even though no one mentioned my haircut again, Lauren's pointed questions left me feeling self-conscious and irritated. Her assumption that I had gotten a so-called "break-up haircut" was untrue and just plain rude.

As I left the cafeteria, I saw Lauren talking to a couple of sophmores in the hall. They were standing close together, their heads almost touching.

"And she didn't even try to deny it," I heard Lauren say. As I came closer, she noticed me and stopped talking. All three stared in stony silence as I walked past.

Feeling furious and humiliated, I looked away and hurried around the corner.

I walked right into Edward.

There was no way he had missed hearing Lauren's gossipy assumption. The look of devastation on his face was proof of that.

"Edward . . ." I started. I didn't even know where to begin.

Students started crowding past us going into English class.

"I wanted to tell you . . ." I tried to continue as people kept bumping into me, pushing me into the classroom.

"I believe you have English now. Enjoy the movie," he said coldly and walked away.


	7. Chapter 7 Nosferatu

I started to follow Edward, but he disappeared so quickly I knew I had no chance of catching up. I let the last stream of students carry me the rest of the way into the classroom. I sat down, feeling numb and replaying the disastrous scene in the hall in my mind. It wasn't until someone turned off the lights that I remembered we were going to watch a movie.

The opening credits began with the date of the film, 1922. The picture quality was halting and grainy. In keeping with the silent movie style of that era, some of the actors' expressions were grossly exaggerated, often to the point of being ridiculous. One student named Brad did a dead-on imitation that brought howls of laughter from some of the students and a stern warning from our teacher.

When the vampire, Count Orlock, finally appeared, I understood Angela's comment about being creepy. I had expected him to look elegant and refined like Bela Lugosi. Instead he had dark sunken eyes, pointed ears, snarled teeth and spidery fingers. His every move was sinister, his every look pure evil.

Some of the other students must have thought Count Orlock was pretty creepy, too. Every time he appeared on screen they reacted raucously.

"Ew."

"Gross!"

"Drive a stake through his heart!"

Other students found the whole thing simply funny. They laughed so much that our teacher threatened to turn off the movie.

The whole school probably could hear all the shouts and laughter from our classroom. Undoubtedly, Edward could, too. Even if he couldn't hear the exact words, the general tone of derision would be unmistakable. In the past Edward had expressed how he viewed himself as a monster. Was the monster on the screen how he saw himself? All of a sudden I had a sickening feeling. What if Edward thought I was joining in the laughter and ridicule? What if he thought I was jeering along with the other students?

The movie ended when Count Orlock, caught in a beam of sunlight, vanished. All of the students cheered and clapped.

I felt terrible. I had to talk to Edward. I knew he already had a mistaken idea about my haircut and now this awful movie. As soon as the teacher dismissed class, I bolted out the door and ran to find him. His teacher must have let his class out early because by the time I got to the room everyone had left. I dashed to his next class. He wasn't there. I checked the cafeteria and even the gym but saw no sign of him. Where could he be? Had he gone home early? I jogged out to the parking lot. Thankfully Edward's car was still there. Even though there were two periods left in the day, I decided to stand right by his car until he came out. By staking my claim at the driver's side I knew there would be no chance of missing him.

I stood leaning against his car watching ever-darkening clouds gather. Soon I could feel rain starting to fall. At first it was only a light mist. But not long after that, it turned into honest-to-goodness rain. I thought about running inside and getting my coat, but worried that it would be just my luck to miss Edward during the few minutes I was gone. I could sit in my truck but it was at the other end of the lot. He could be in his car and out of the parking lot even before I would be able to get my door open. Every so often there would be a little break in the clouds and I thought it was starting to clear. But each time, the rain would renew itself with even more intensity. The longer I stood there the more foolish I felt. But I had already stood there so long and was already completely soaked. What could I do? Go back to class looking like a drowned rat?

At last the doors opened and students started coming out of the building. As soon as they realized how hard it was raining they began running toward their cars. Thankfully, none of them seemed to notice me. I kept brushing the water from my eyes while looking for Edward. Perhaps he was lingering in the building, hoping not to see me.

Eventually, all the students were gone. Only my truck and Edward's car remained in the parking lot. Maybe he had taken off running after he had spoken to me earlier. Perhaps he had left with his siblings in the middle of the afternoon and I had been standing in the rain for two hours like an idiot.

I saw the front door of the school open again and Edward quickly walked out. About halfway to his car he suddenly noticed me.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, "It's pouring rain."

"I n-n-need to talk to y-y-you," I said. I hadn't realized how cold I was until heard myself stuttering.

"You're completely soaked. How long have you been out here?"

"S-s-since after English,"

"Get inside," he ordered as he unlocked the door to his car.

"N-n-no, I'll get your car all w-w-wet," I managed to say. I took the keys to my truck out of my backpack but my hands were so cold I dropped them immediately. Edward grabbed them and steered me towards my truck. He quickly ushered me into the passenger seat and ran to get inside and turned on the engine.

"What were you thinking standing out there for hours in the rain?" he asked.

"I need to t-t-talk to you," I stammered as he put his coat around my shoulders. "I was afraid I would m-m-miss you."

"What did you want to tell me?" he asked with a worried look.

"I hated that movie," I said again. "I thought maybe you heard everyone laughing. I didn't want you to think I was laughing, too."

"No, I didn't think you were," he said softly. He turned the heater on and we waited a few minutes for the truck to warm up.

"Did you hear what Lauren said in the hall?" I finally asked.

Edward nodded.

"It's not true. I didn't cut my hair as a way to break up with you. I didn't do it to spite you or anything like that. I just wanted to look different. I didn't want to look like I was still in third grade."

"I never thought you looked like you were in third grade."

"I just needed a change. Something more grown up, more sophisticated."

Edward smiled. Then he started to laugh.

"What's so funny?" I demanded.

He turned the rearview mirror so I could see myself. My new, sophisticated haircut was plastered flat against my head, dripping water everywhere. My face flushed with embarrassment while Edward continued laughing.

"Stop laughing!" I begged. I took another look at myself and started laughing, too.

After a while I was able to catch my breath. We sat there awkwardly for a few moments.

"Are you still angry with me?" Edward finally asked.

"Sort of."

"Can you tell me about it?"

I thought for a moment.

"You never talked to me about leaving."

"Yes, I did," Edward said, looking confused. "I came to your house and told you right before I left."

"That's just it. You _told_ me, you didn't talk to me."

"What's the difference?"

"There's a whole world of difference," I said, starting to get frustrated. "You just told me, you never talked to me about what you were thinking, about what you were planning to do. You never asked me what I thought."

"You wouldn't have agreed to it even if I had talked to you."

"How do you know that? You are always complaining you never know what I am thinking!"

"Would you have agreed?"

"No."

"Well?" he demanded.

"But that's not the point!"

"So what is the point?"

"You just decided without saying anything to me about it first! You treated me like a child." I paused for a moment. "Or a pet."

"What did you say?" Edward asked angrily.

"That's what Laurent thought," I answered quietly, knowing full well he had heard me.

"_What?_"

"Remember I told you I saw Laurent in the meadow?"

"Yes."

"He said something about me being your pet."

"That's utterly ridiculous!" Edward looked as angry as he sounded.

I continued softly, "I think maybe he saw something about us. Something we can't see."

"Bella, I can't believe you are saying this."

"I'm not saying he was completely right. But I don't think he was completely wrong either."

"You think I treat you like someone would treat their pet?"

"I just think there's some truth in what he said," I said quietly.

Edward sat looking as furious as I had ever seen him.

"You'd better get home. Charlie will be wondering what happened to you." He reached for his coat and quickly opened the door and left. Within seconds he was in his car and driving out of the parking lot.

I sat with the rain steadily drumming on the roof of my truck. I slowly moved over to the driver's side and started for home.


	8. Chapter 8 Smoke on the Water

I spent a miserable evening in my room. It seemed as if Edward and I had taken one step forward only to take two steps back. I didn't even attempt to do any homework. I lay on my bed, listening to music with Scout lying beside me. Both Charlie and I had long given up trying to keep Scout off any of the furniture. He was welcome to snuggle anytime, anywhere.

I didn't think I would be able to sleep, I felt so terrible. But around midnight, I got sleepy enough to crawl under my blankets and turn off the light. My dreams were jumbled and chaotic. They switched from one random scene to another. At first I was swimming in the ocean. When I came out of the water I found myself in a department store, shopping for a new dress. Then my dream morphed to where I was behind the wheel of a racecar. The other racecars kept bumping into mine while I drove around and around a steep, curved track. I pushed the gas pedal all the way to the floor but the car wouldn't go any faster. The engine just rumbled louder. The racetrack dissolved into an open field. The rumbling of the engine turned into a thunderstorm. The rolling thunder grew louder and louder.

I woke up. It took me a moment to realize that I was no longer dreaming and something was, in fact, rumbling.

It was Scout. He was growling.

He stood facing my window. His head was held high, his legs were stiff and his ears were flattened against his head. His low growling never stopped as he stared at the window.

"Scout, what is it?" I whispered.

Scout didn't move. Even as I slowly got out of bed, he kept staring and growling. It must be Edward at my window. It suddenly dawned on me that he was outside thinking that Jacob was in my room. There had been enough misunderstandings between Edward and I already and we didn't need another one. I tore open my curtains.

Edward wasn't there. What was Scout growling at? I looked out. Perhaps Edward was in the tree outside my window. It was very dark and hard to see anything but filmy shadows. I opened my window and leaned out to get a better look. Scout padded over and put his paws on the windowsill and looked out, too. We both stared in the near-darkness for over a minute. I couldn't see anything. Scout had stopped growling, but his body remained stiff and tense. I shivered in the damp, cold air and pulled back inside, bringing Scout with me. I finally figured that Edward had no idea I had gotten a dog and left my window when he heard Scout growling, angrily thinking it was Jacob.

I went back to bed and called to Scout. As much as I coaxed he continued to stand facing the window. After about five minutes, he went over to his blankets in the corner and lay down. It was much longer before I heard him sigh, the telltale sign he was relaxed and ready to sleep.

The next day I drove to school feeling tired and miserable. Scout had slept quietly the rest of the night but I couldn't get back to sleep, glancing at the window every time I heard the slightest noise. I finally fell asleep shortly before dawn only to wake up a little while later feeling groggy and exhausted.

It was Edward's turn to be waiting for me in the parking lot.

"I need to talk to you," he said, looking nearly as upset as he had yesterday.

"Okay," I said starting to get out.

"No, stay there. I'll come around," he said and quickly got in the passenger side.

"What did you want to . . ." I started.

Before I could finish he said, "Bella, I cannot believe you agree with Laurent's absurb idea."

"That's not really what I said."

"Then what exactly did you mean?"

"I was trying to say that there was some truth in what he said."

"It's still ridiculous," Edward said, fuming. "How is saving you from James treating you like a pet? What about that night in Port Angeles? What about when I prevented that van from crushing you. Don't any of those things matter?"

"Of course they matter."

Edward sat shaking his head. Eventually he turned to me and said, "All I have ever wanted to do is protect you."

"I know. I believe Laurent sensed that, too. I think that's what he meant in his comment about me being your pet."

Edward looked away. "This doesn't make any sense."

We sat in tense silence for several moments. I finally said, "I'm not sure I understand all of this either. How about we go somewhere after school and talk?"

"Aren't you still grounded?" Edward said, seemingly confused.

"No."

Edward looked surprised. "When did that happen?"

"A few days ago."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know."

Edward's furious look returned. "I'll see you later," he said as he got out of the truck.

I didn't see Edward all morning. We were getting to be experts at avoiding each other. It was as if we were two dancers in some strange ballet, always at opposite ends of the stage.

"So Bella," Mike said to me during lunch, "are you going to cheer me on at the talent show?"

I had forgotten that the annual Forks High School talent show was scheduled for the last period of the day. I recalled last year's show. There had been a few moments of marginal talent. Most of it was simply painful.

"I didn't know you were doing anything," I said as I bit into a sandwich.

"I'm playing with my band. We're doing _Smoke on the Water._"

I nearly choked. Back in Phoenix I had heard at least a dozen garage bands play that old classic. Each one found a new way to mess it up.

"That's so cool," said Ben.

"You guys will be great," continued Angela.

"We'll be your cheering section," Jessica said.

"You can be my groupies," Mike said and everyone laughed.

"I'll try and get there early to save seats in front for everyone," said Ben.

"I'll be looking for you guys," called Mike as we all got up to leave.

I spent the next two hours conjuring up schemes to avoid going to the talent show. I finally realized that even as irritating as Mike could be, I really didn't want to hurt his feelings by not showing up. My greatest fear was that Mike's band would be so dreadful that I would start laughing and not be able to stop. Being serious by nature, fits of laughter were pretty rare for me. But burned in my memory was one of the few times it happened. One Sunday, when I was about four or five, Renee had taken me to church. During the service, an elderly woman from the congregation got up and sang a solo. Even my tiny ears could tell that her voice warbled hideously and she was terribly out of tune. I started to giggle. The more Renee tried to quiet me, the more I giggled. Knowing I wasn't supposed to laugh made everything seem even funnier. As the woman warbled on my giggles turned into outright laughter. Terribly embarrassed, Renee finally picked me up and carried me out of the church.

I had an ominous feeling Mike's band would trigger the same response.

I finally decided if I got to the auditorium a little late, I could sit by myself in the back. If Mike's band were as awful as I feared and I started to snicker, my friends wouldn't be around to shush me and make the whole thing seem even more hilarious. My plan would also spare Mike's feelings. Inevitably, he would ask if I had heard him play and I could answer truthfully that I had.

I dawdled as much as I could after English class gathering my books and walking slowly to my locker. I took my time in the girls' restroom and even stopped to fuss with my hair. By the time I got to the auditorium the show had already started. I stepped into the dark hall and groped my way to the end seat in the back row.

I was pleasantly surprised at the first performer. One of the freshman boys was playing Beethoven's _Fur Elise_ on the piano. He did a reasonable job and looked very relieved it was over as he walked off the stage.

Mike's band was next. Evidently they had their instruments all tuned up and ready to go because when they took the stage they almost immediately started to play. Mike, with his guitar strapped around his shoulders, started plunking out the opening to _Smoke on the Water._

_Dum dum dum_

_Dum dum da-dum_

_Dum dum dum_

_Dum dum_

I breathed a sigh of relief. He had made it through one of the most famous rock guitar licks without any mistakes. Next he walked up to the microphone. He took a deep breath and began.

_We all came out to the shore_

_To the lake, out to the shoreline . . ._

Those weren't the words I remembered. Mike was undoubtedly nervous and blew the opening lyrics. But I had to give him credit for covering it up well. I would be sure to compliment him on his good recovery so he would know I had really been there. Mike seemed to find his bearings and didn't forget any more of the words. I think a few guitar chords got switched around but overall the band did a pretty good job. When they finished the auditorium erupted into cheers and applause. I could see my friends giving Mike and his band a standing ovation. I cheered and clapped, too, greatly relieved that the embarrassing scenario I had imagined never materialized.

The next performer was a tall, blond girl with a saxophone. I remembered her from last year's talent show and desperately hoped she had improved in the last twelve months.

She hadn't. She honked her way through a Mozart minuet, squeaking on every fifth or sixth note. At the end of one particularly long run she ended on a note that sounded like a duck being throttled. As much as I tried to keep it inside, a lone giggle escaped. Two girls sitting in front of me turned around and glared. I tried to cover up my renegade giggle with a couple of coughs. Mercifully, Mozart had written a short minuet on that particular day and the saxophone solo soon ended.

After a round of polite applause for the saxophone girl, the one of the sopranos from the choir came out with her accompanist. She announced she would be singing _Nessum Dorma_ from Puccini's opera _Turandot. _Wasn't that a famous tenor aria? I seemed to recall there was a _really_ high note at the end.

She looked very nervous as she began singing. Her thin quivering voice reminded me of a baby goat calling for its mother. As she continued her voice sounded more like a dying bird. I swallowed hard when I realized the dreaded bout of laughter was lurking inside me. My shoulders began to to shake with silent laughter. With the melody rising, I could tell she was nearing the end of the piece. I braced myself. Her voice, straining at the dramatic climax, sounded like the wail of an undiscovered species. My control crumbled and I had to dig deep to summon it back. Even though I had willed myself to stop laughing I could feel my seat continue to shake. Was I that out of control? I finally realized someone else in my row was laughing, too. I peered through the darkness at the person sitting several seats down from me.

It was Edward, looking at me with his mouth buried in his fist, making the entire row of seats shake with his silent laughter. I quickly looked away, knowing that since he found this as hysterically funny as I did, the little self-control I had left was in danger of completely slipping away.

Next on stage was a cellist.

"I will be playing my own composition, _The Cats of Saint Ives_," he announced grandly. Wait – wasn't there some sort of riddle about counting cats and wives while going to Saint Ives? I recalled most people spent oodles of time calculating seven times seven times seven in their heads when the correct answer to the riddle was so easy - the number one. I hoped this kid knew his riddles or this could be a very long piece.

The solo started out mournfully with long, slow notes in the bass, sounding as if one of the cats from Saint Ives had just died. The next section of the piece sounded like a second cat yowling about the demise of the first. I had to bury my face in my hands to stay in control. Cats three and four must have gotten into a terrific fight by the way the cellist's bow furiously scratched against the strings. I could feel my seat begin to shake. I took a quick glance at Edward. Again, he was looking at me and struggling to maintain, gripped with silent laughter. I could feel myself losing it and quickly covered my face again.

Cat number five fared no better. Surely he was being strangled. While he put up a good fight, I lost mine. I started to giggle.

"Shhh!" I heard from the girls in front of me.

I clapped my hands over my mouth. That barely suppressed my snickering while the sixth cat endured the fires of hell.

Cello boy really let loose in the next section. It sounded like the rest of the cats from Saint Ives plus a few more from neighboring counties were engaged in an all-out war. It was a musical massacre. I don't know what possessed me to look up at the cellist, but at that very moment, in his passion and frenzy, the bow flew out of his hand and landed somewhere stage left. Even biting my lip didn't work. With my face in my hands and consumed with choking laughter, I felt cool arms pick me up and carry me from the auditorium.

"Hold on," Edward whispered.

I buried my face in his neck and soon I could tell we were outside. I started to laugh aloud.

"Shhh, not yet," Edward said.

The cool afternoon breeze rushed against me as Edward quickly carried me farther away from the school.

"Okay, now" he said as he set me on my feet.

We spent the next several moments doubled over with laughter. It was such a relief to able to finally let go of all that I had been holding inside. Eventually we just stood there while I gasped and wiped my eyes.

"That was priceless," said Edward.

"Which one? The soprano or the cello?"

"You," he answered.

"_What?_"

"Watching you watching them was a show in itself," Edward said, laughing again.

"You were watching me the whole time?" I groaned, feeling myself turn red.

Edward came over, wrapped his arms around me and said, "Oh Bella, what am I going to do with you?"

"What am I going to do with _you_?" I sighed, hugging him back.

As we stood with our arms around each other I thought about how long it had taken us to get to this point. Why had there been so many misunderstandings, so many weeks of anger and hurt before being able to share this one good moment together?

"We're not very good at this are we?" I said.

"I'd like to try to get better."

"Me, too."


	9. Chapter 9 The Open Field

"Why didn't you tell me you weren't grounded anymore?" Edward asked.

"I don't know. I guess I just wasn't ready."

"Ready for what?"

"Ready for you to come over again," I answered.

Edward paused. "Would it be all right if I came by tonight?"

I thought for a moment. "Yes, but make it earlier than last night."

"Bella, I wasn't there last night," he replied.

I just stared at him. If not Edward, just what had Scout heard?

"Bella, you must believe me that it has been weeks since I've been to your house." Edward announced firmly. "Why did you think I was there? Did you hear something?"

"No, not really."

"Did you see something?"

I hesitated. "No."

"I don't understand."

I sighed. "There's someone you should meet."

************************************************************************

I told Edward to meet me at the open field west of town in twenty minutes. He wanted to know what was going on, but I said he simply needed to trust me.

I raced home and was subject to the usual tail-wagging and face-licking as I entered the house.

"Come on, Scout," I said, grabbing the leash and a tennis ball. He joyfully dashed out to my truck.

As we headed west, I kept tapping my fingers nervously on the steering wheel.

_This could be a complete disaster, _I said to myself. I knew that vampires and werewolves were natural enemies. But what about dogs? Knowing that there was a vast difference between dogs and werewolves, I wondered if that difference included their reaction to vampires.

As I approached the field, I saw Edward's silver car already parked. I slowly pulled in behind him and took a deep breath.

"Please, please be good," I begged Scout as I opened the door. As Scout bounded out the door I suddenly realized that I hadn't attached the leash to Scout's collar.

"Scout, Scout!" I called frantically while he raced towards Edward. I was terrified of what would happen if Scout tried to attack him. Would Edward think I had unleashed him on purpose? Would he mistake Scout for a werewolf and kill him in self-defense?

Scout stopped a few feet from Edward. They both stood motionless and stared at each other.

"It's okay, Scout," I softly called. I slowly walked up to Edward and stood next to him.

"Here Scout," I called.

He put his head down and hesitantly walked toward us.

"Show him the back of your hand," I instructed Edward. He turned his hand over and held it out.

Scout didn't move.

"Kneel down and try again," I said.

Edward slowly knelt down and held out his hand again. This time Scout leaned his head toward Edward's hand and took a quick sniff. He backed up a couple of feet.

"It's okay," I called to Scout again.

"Here Scout," Edward called softly, still holding out his hand.

Scout crept towards Edward's outstretched hand. Scout, in one quick motion, took a swift lick. He paused for a moment. Suddenly his face lit up with a wide grin and his tail starting wagging double time.

Edward petted Scout for a few moments. Then he stood up and looked at me.

"This explains a lot. There has been a scent about you lately that I simply could not place."

"You thought it was Jacob?" I asked.

"I wasn't sure," he answered. "When did you get a dog?"

"A few weeks ago," I answered.

"I had no idea you were a dog lover."

"Neither did I."

"What in the world possessed you to get one?"

I could feel myself beginning to turn red. "Promise you won't laugh."

"Alright."

"I got him as a vampire protection system."

"What?" Edward started to laugh.

"You promised!" I protested.

"I can't help it," he said, still laughing. "You can't honestly say you thought a dog would protect you from vampires."

"Not from all vampires. Just you."

"_What?_"

"I got him to keep you out of my room."

Edward laughed even harder. "How did you expect him to accomplish that?"

"I figured he would bark when you came to the window. Then I would yell at you to get out."

Edward stopped laughing. "That would have worked," he admitted. Edward suddenly grew serious. "Did he bark at something last night?"

"He growled. I looked out the window but I couldn't see anything," I answered. "Maybe you should come over tonight," I added.

"Through the front door or the window?"

"Better make it the window. Let's not push Charlie too much."

I took out the ball I had stuffed in my pocket. As soon as Scout saw it he started prancing in anticipation. When I pulled my arm back to fling the ball, he took off. My throw was so weak that it barely made it twenty feet before it dribbled to a stop.

"Don't say it," I warned.

"Say what?"

"_You throw like a girl!" _

"Bella, for you throwing like a girl would be a vast improvement," Edward said with a smile.

I gave him a playful push. Scout dropped the ball at Edward's feet and look up smiling. Edward gave the ball a casual toss and it sailed away. Scout tore across the field in search of it.

"You will probably find this hard to believe," said Edward, "but I really do like your hair."

"You _do_?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact. And I think it does make you look more sophisticated," he continued, "When it's dry."

"Very funny," I said. We watched Scout zigzag back and forth hunting for the ball.

"Maybe we could talk about Italy tonight," I said quietly.

"Do you really want to?" asked Edward putting his arm around me.

"I think I do," I answered, leaning into his embrace.

I saw Scout sprinting from the other end of the field. He had found the ball at the edge of the forest and was bounding back.


End file.
